


Last Kiss

by DancerDramatic14



Series: Collections of Sad Songs [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, depressed michelle jones, i was sick while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancerDramatic14/pseuds/DancerDramatic14
Summary: It's been 3 weeks, Michelle notes, it's only been 3 weeks since the accident.Peter still hasn't woken up yet, his arms still have I.Vs connected to him, and Michelle hasn't slept properly in almost a week. Tony and the other Avengers have come to visit, with solemn smiles and hopeful glances and Michelle considers blaming them, for Peter getting hurt, for all of this.-Or a sad Spideychelle fanfic based off of Last Kiss by Taylor Swift.





	Last Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I wrote this while sick so I'm sorry if it makes no sense.

And I'll go sit on the floor  
Wearing your clothes

It's been 3 weeks, Michelle notes, it's only been 3 weeks since the accident. 

Peter still hasn't woken up yet, his arms still have I.Vs connected to him, and Michelle hasn't slept properly in almost a week. Tony and the other Avengers have come to visit, with solemn smiles and hopeful glances and Michelle considers blaming them, for Peter getting hurt, for all of this. But she watches as Tony brushes Peter's hair from his forehead in order to give him a quiet kiss, sees the fear in Clint's eyes whenever Peter takes a breath and she understands that fear, that pain. 

She stays, even when Aunt May can't, and her professors give her shit for it but she has to see him, know that he's still there, that he hasn't passed away. She's been wearing his hoodies a lot lately, specifically his old decathlon hoodie, the one that he'd stuffed into the back of the closet the minute they'd moved in, the one that barely covers her arms and sits right above her belly button unless she pulls on it. 

Miranda, the nurse who changes Peter's I.V every day hands her some sweatpants and a tank top to wear under the hoodie along with underwear and a sports bra with orders to go shower and eat something. Michelle listens for quite possibly the first time in a long while and hails a cab within minutes. The can ride home is silent, her breathing shakily running a hand through her hair every few seconds and the cabbie thankfully doesn't ask any questions. With a tip and a small wave, she exits the cab and walks into their apartment building. 

Their apartment is a mess, and there's an empty pizza box on the living room table and she itches to clean up but decides that showering is more important. The water is freezing, and for a moment she wonders if this is how Peter is feeling, cold with numbing tingling throughout his body. She shakes that thought away, scrubbing her arms harshly before rinsing her body off. She dresses up quickly, wringing her hair out in an old cotton t-shirt when it finally hits her. A cold chill surges through her body and within seconds she feels her breath catching in her throat.   
Before she can even stop herself, she's curled up on the bedroom floor, tears streaming down her face as she sobs. 

'He was supposed to be safe. Tony promised me that he'd be safe.’ 

Her mind is racing and in the very back she itches for a knife, a blade anything really. She hasn't cut in nearly 2 and a half years, mainly because of Peter and she berates herself for wanting to relapse just because he isn't there. 

“I'm not going to relapse. I'm not. I will not.“ 

The mantra doesn't ease the feeling like it usually does and the cold chill is still there as she gingerly picks up one of Peter's hoodies out of the laundry basket and holds it tight to her body.

She breathes in his cologne and the faint scent of metal as she continues to sob, her hair falling out of her hastily made bun. Her sobbing falters as she takes in her surroundings, rubbing her cheeks, wiping the tears away. And like always, on the days where she's worried about Peter's safety when she's wondered if he'll be coming home that night, she pulls herself together, straightens her spine and walks off into the world.


End file.
